NCIS Fic: Close Enough
Title: Close Enough
Fandom/Pairing: NCIS - Gibbs/DiNozzo
Category: Slash, NC17
Feedback: All feedback welcomed and appreciated.
Disclaimers: All standard disclaimers apply.
Many, many thanks to my brilliant beta audrarose. Her patience and attention to detail never cease to amaze me. *G* I'm solely responsible for all remaining mistakes.
Tony sat parked in front of Gibbs’ house feeling vaguely like a stalker.
He’d been sitting in his car, staring at the house for going on twenty minutes. The house was dark, the car was parked in the driveway and the neighborhood was quiet, unlit except for a few streetlights. Gibbs was obviously asleep - because, really what else would he be doing at two-thirty in the morning?
Tony had spent much of the night at a bar in the outskirts of Baltimore catching up with old friends from his BPD days. They’d called a week ago to invite him to the retirement bash for his old captain. He’d generally been undecided about going until he’d mentioned it to Gibbs, who’d said, “Just go, DiNozzo.”
Tony had gone. It hadn’t been something he’d necessarily wanted to do but at the time he’d been pissed enough at Gibbs that a night away sounded like a damn fine idea.
He’d shown up at the bar alone, drank a few beers and made crude comments about the captain retiring with an exotic dancer while pretending to stare at the scantily clad waitresses. He’d had more than a few questions to answer about his single status and why he was avoiding the not so subtle advances of the women. Tony had just laughed because what else could he do? Tony wasn’t officially out and Gibbs sure as hell wasn’t officially out. And while the two of them weren’t necessarily locked in an airtight closet they were definitely sticking to the shadowed lands. Only someone who looked closely enough would see the obvious.
Besides, how smart would it be to tell a room full of cops that he was sleeping with his male boss?
He had left as soon as he could. He’d walked out of the bar, tired and still depressingly sober, and had gotten into his car to head home. And he really had intended to drive home, but somewhere between Baltimore and DC he’d started thinking about Gibbs’ bed and Gibbs’ arms and how he’d just once like to wake up next to the man instead of slinking off in the middle of the night.
So he’d turned left at the off ramp when he should’ve turned right, and when he could’ve flipped a u-turn to head back toward his apartment he’d kept driving straight until he’d found himself sitting in front of Gibbs’ house at 2:30 in the morning feeling like a stalker. He wanted to go inside - needed to go inside - but he knew that going inside was against the unwritten rules.
This was Gibbs after all, so of course their relationship had rules and boundaries and regulations. Some had been crossed and long since forgotten in their six months together, but some still remained, looming in the background of everything they did. He was with Gibbs more than half the nights, but while they went to bed together Tony always woke up alone. It didn’t matter where they were - Gibbs’ house or Tony’s apartment - one of them always left well before morning.
Actually this entire dilemma was stupid, since this was such an easy thing to do - just get out of the car, unlock the front door with his key and crawl into bed with a very warm, nice smelling Gibbs. Yet Tony still sat there, watching Gibbs’ house and wondering if he could every really have Gibbs in any meaningful ‘lets-have-our-jockey shorts-mingle-permanently’ kind of way. Of course, Tony already had an underwear drawer at Gibbs’ house, but he’d like to know that he wasn’t going to be evicted any time in the near future.
“Fuck it.” Tony opened the car door and figured he’d get some sleep and deal with Gibbs and all the baggage later.
The house was dark except for the nightlight glowing from the plug in the living room. Gibbs always complained about the light disturbing his sleep, but Tony could vividly recall all those nights watching Gibbs’ ass bent over as he plugged in the nightlight on the way to the bedroom.
Gibbs had bought the nightlight four months ago after Tony had broken his little toe on the edge of the coffee table. It had been pitch black in the house and Tony had been stumbling toward the kitchen when his toe met the table leg. His mumbled, “Fuck. Ouch,” had brought Gibbs out of the bedroom.
Gibbs had looked at the toe, already turning an impressive bluish black and bleeding a bit from the corner, and said to Tony, “For Christ’s sake, DiNozzo, suck it up. It’s just a toe.”
But the next night Tony spent at Gibbs’ house his kitchen expedition had been met with a small nightlight that softly lit the entire living room. No more broken toes. Neither Tony nor Gibbs had commented on the light. Tony hadn’t really given it much thought; it was after all, just a nightlight. But it was a nightlight still plugged in, still glowing, on a night when Gibbs wasn’t expecting Tony. Tony found himself wondering if he hadn’t somehow missed the message. Gibbs’ wasn’t cryptic but he could sometimes be obscure.
Tony walked down the hall to the bedroom, hoping that Gibbs had fallen asleep in bed and not down by the boat. He paused in the doorway and gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, until he could see that Gibbs was asleep on the bed with his arms spread out and one hand resting open palmed on Tony’s side of the bed.
Tony stepped inside the bedroom and paused, wondering when he had somehow claimed a side of Gibbs’ bed.
Tony walked closer to the bed - his side of the bed - and then paused again, this time wondering how wise it was to surprise a former Marine gunny sergeant and trained combatant by jumping into the sack with him. Knowing Gibbs, he probably slept with a 9mm under his pillow on the nights when Tony wasn’t staying, which meant that any second Gibbs could spring up and Tony could end up looking down the business end of a loaded weapon.
Not a great situation since Tony knew that even a half-asleep Gibbs was dangerous.
He quietly stripped down to his boxers and climbed carefully into bed. No matter how daring he felt, he wasn’t quite brave enough to wake up naked next to Gibbs, at least not when the waking-up-next-to-him part would be a surprise. That thought made Tony chuckle since modesty wasn’t something he or Gibbs had much experience with. It felt like most of their relationship consisted of working on losing the boxers and getting to the naked parts.
Tony’s breath caught when Gibbs reached out a hand and touched Tony’s arm.
“Tony?” Gibbs mumbled, and Tony’s nervousness somehow eased. Gibbs knew who had crawled into bed with him; he was still mostly asleep, eyes still closed but he had enough awareness to recognize Tony.
Tony reached down and rubbed Gibbs’ hand and said, “Yeah, it’s me. Go back to sleep.”
Tony rolled onto his side so he was facing Gibbs. His eyes were heavy but the smell of Gibbs - sawdust and Irish Spring soap - and the strong line of his back had Tony’s dick twitching half-heartedly. But much as he wanted Gibbs, his body wanted sleep more. He wanted to stretch out next to Gibbs in this bed with the ugly plaid comforter and the cheap 150 count sheets. He wanted to stop leaving in the middle of the night and start waking up next to Gibbs. He wanted to stop pretending that what they had was a long standing buddy fuck when they both knew it was more.
Then Tony thought about Gibbs’ house key that sat on his keychain, the drawer full of his boxers in Gibbs’ dresser, the nightlight in Gibbs’ living room. Tony realized that maybe Gibbs had already figured out what Tony wanted. Maybe it was the same thing that Gibbs wanted, too. In the morning Tony would wake up, get some sex and have some breakfast. And maybe afterwards he’d get a change in his life that wasn’t so much a change as a difference - something a little more, a little better, a little different.
Tony felt Gibbs shift in bed until his legs were shoved between Tony’s knees. Gibbs stuck his head into the crease of Tony’s arm and mumbled, “Go to sleep, DiNozzo,” in a voice that was more awake than Tony would have thought possible at three in the morning.
And that sounded like a good idea to Tony; the night was late and he was tired so he shoved Gibbs’ head slightly off the pillow and settled down. He heard Gibbs snort, and then felt the heavy weight of Gibbs arm slap across his stomach before his snorts turned into snores.
So Tony said, “Okay,” then wrapped his arms tightly around Gibbs and went to sleep.
The feel of fingers tugging on his chest hair woke Tony up in the morning. It was late - the sun was high in the sky and the alarm clock read eleven a.m. He opened his eyes to see Gibbs watching him with that almost expressionless look on his face.
“Hey.” Tony managed to say, clearing his throat and hoping his morning after beer breath wasn’t too nasty.
Gibbs didn’t say a word, just kept rubbing and pulling on Tony’s chest hair. Occasionally, he’d move his hand enough to softly flick one of Tony’s nipples. When Tony’s stomach muscles would clench in response, Gibbs would smile a little - like he knew a secret, like he’d figured out the answer.
Finally Gibbs asked, “How was last night?”
“You know, gorgeous women with big tits and little tee shirts all serving us beer. They all wanted me.”
“Yeah?” Gibbs asked, seconds before he kissed Tony. It was a full kiss that started on the lips and continued swiftly into the mouth and ended with a leisurely exploration of tongues and tonsils and teeth. The taste of Gibbs and desire and need exploded in Tony’s mouth. Tony groaned in response - a loud groan that would have embarrassed him if his body had been conscious of anything except the feel of Gibbs’ cock poking him in the thigh and the taste of Gibbs’ mouth on his. When Gibbs pulled away, Tony reached up and caught Gibbs on the back of the neck so that his mouth hovered over Tony’s in a blatant tease.
“Big tits in little t-shirts? Turns you on, huh?” And then Gibbs tugged hard on Tony’s nipples - painfully arousing - and captured Tony’s mouth again in a long, nasty kiss that immediately had Tony hard and wanting.
Gibbs’ mouth controlled the kiss and his hands tormented Tony’s chest and that was fine with Tony. He had two hands of his own that he could use to do some tormenting, so he wiggled out of his boxers then reached over and pulled Gibbs hard until he was lying across Tony’s chest.
Tony raised his legs up and pushed his feet against the bed and thrust up against Gibbs’ body. He felt their cocks slide together and when Gibbs moaned in that stupid pretending-not-to-moan way Tony opened his mouth wider and sucked in Gibbs’ tongue. He thrust his hands into Gibbs’ hair and angled Gibbs’ head to the side so that his neck was exposed.
Soft nips below Gibbs’ ear led to harder bites along his neck. Gibbs started thrusting down onto Tony’s body until Tony forgot he was supposed to be kissing and got lost in the sensation of Gibbs. Gibbs took Tony’s hands in his and intertwined their fingers pushing their hands down on the bed and raising his body up so he could see Tony’s face. He sank down and ground in hard circles until Tony felt his body tingle and the pressure start to build.
“Gibbs,” Tony wasn’t sure what he was planning to say but Gibbs’ name was always a safe bet. Demand or question he didn’t know but Gibbs seemed to understand. He let go of Tony’s hand and reached down and lifted Tony’s leg up, wrapping it around his waist.
Tony grabbed Gibbs’ head and brought their mouths together hard. There was no finesse in the kiss; just strength and need and a single-minded determination to touch and to come. Gibbs moved Tony’s legs and hips so that the angle was just right, so that their cocks rubbed together on every stroke. Tony could feel his balls tightening and when Gibbs reached down between them and pressed in hard under his balls he came with a groan strong enough to rock Gibbs.
Gasping, Gibbs lunged for the bedside table giving Tony an eyeful of his ass. He grabbed the lube and gave Tony a long, slow kiss that said more about Gibbs’ feelings than any words. With his fingers busy sliding in and out of Tony, Gibbs nipped and sucked and kissed his way across Tony’s chest and up his neck. And when Tony finally felt Gibbs push inside, he wrapped his legs around Gibbs’ waist and pulled him deeper.
Gibbs took a shuddering breath before he started to thrust - long, slow thrusts that quickly became fast and hard and demanding. Tony could feel Gibbs shaking, fighting to hold on just a little longer. Tony pushed himself up, forcing their bodies more firmly together and then he reached around and grabbed Gibbs’ ass in a bruising hold. Tony watched and waited and when he saw Gibbs bite his lower lip he pushed his finger hard into Gibbs’ hole - a little rough, a little nasty and exactly what Gibbs needed.
Gibbs came with a moan and one whispered word, “Tony.”
It was late afternoon before Gibbs and Tony got out of bed and went into the kitchen. Their stomachs were rumbling, their cocks were spent and Gibbs was bitching about the need for coffee. Sitting at the small table, Tony watched Gibbs stand at the counter and make tuna sandwiches in blue boxers and a faded USMC tee shirt.
Gibbs’ knees were knobby, his legs covered in coarse salt and pepper hair, the hair on his head stuck straight up at the crown and he had a good two days growth of beard. Tony sat there and tried to figure out when those things had become somehow better than soft curves, sweet smells and smooth legs. He couldn’t decide and figured that it didn’t really matter.
The lines on Gibbs’ face had relaxed; the hard curve of his lips had softened. He looked - almost - approachable. He looked younger than Tony had ever seen him look. Tony realized with a startling clarity that made his head ache and his body gasp for a breath that Gibbs looked … happy.
Tony had made Gibbs look happy. And not a just-got-laid and had-a-killer-orgasm kind of happy. It was the kind of happy that had Tony looking across the kitchen and seeing the Jethro that was still in love with life and hadn’t yet learned the hard lessons of time. Tony felt a flash of pride at the thought that he had put that look on Gibbs’ face. Not some redhead with a convertible but Anthony DiNozzo.
Of course pride gave way to desire when Gibbs starting shaking his ass at the counter. The man had eyes in the back of his head - he knew Tony was looking, and he knew Tony had a strange, almost perverse, love of Gibbs’ ass.
Tony could admit this.
Tony loved Gibbs’ ass, and he loved the rest of Gibbs and he would generally like to be allowed to say he loved all those various Gibbs parts.
Taking a long drink of his too strong coffee, Tony told his hardening dick to behave and said to Gibbs, “I guess I’ll take off after we eat.”
Gibbs’ ass stopped shaking and Gibbs looked over his shoulder to ask, “In a rush to be somewhere, Tony?”
Tony recognized that look in Gibbs’ eye. It was such a small change - so small most people wouldn’t notice it - but Tony had worked with Gibbs for three years and knew this look well. It was the same one Gibbs got every time he finally put all the clues together and figured out the case; it was the one Gibbs got when he had the perp in the interrogation room and was moving in for the kill.
But Tony hadn’t just been working with Gibbs for three years, he’d been learning from the man as well.
“Not really.” Tony stood, and lifting his arms above his head, he stretched. A big stretch that hiked his shirt up past the waistband of his boxers and had him moaning in delight as sore ass muscles stretched and relaxed.
When Tony sat back down, he raised his eyebrows and stared at the front of Gibbs’ tented boxers and laughed softly at the glazed look in Gibbs’ eyes. He raised his coffee cup in a small salute and waved Gibbs over to the closest chair.
“Gibbs, you’re a pain in the ass. Ask me to stay.”
“No.”
“You know you want to.”
Gibbs’ mouth turned up on one side, a small, smirking half smile that could mean anything. But when Gibbs sat down and lifted his foot to give Tony a swift kick in the shin Tony knew what the smile meant. Knew what the choice Gibbs had just made meant.
“You know, DiNozzo, I need some help with the boat.”
“Some help today?”
Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, took a drink of his coffee and picked up the morning newspaper. “Till it’s done.”
“Gibbs, that boat will never be done.”
Gibbs did smile then, a big, wide, shit-eating grin that had Tony’s pulse racing and his body tingling in anticipation.
“I know.”
And for Tony that was close enough to perfect.
Fandom/Pairing: NCIS - Gibbs/DiNozzo
Category: Slash, NC17
Feedback: All feedback welcomed and appreciated.
Disclaimers: All standard disclaimers apply.
Many, many thanks to my brilliant beta audrarose. Her patience and attention to detail never cease to amaze me. *G* I'm solely responsible for all remaining mistakes.
Tony sat parked in front of Gibbs’ house feeling vaguely like a stalker.
He’d been sitting in his car, staring at the house for going on twenty minutes. The house was dark, the car was parked in the driveway and the neighborhood was quiet, unlit except for a few streetlights. Gibbs was obviously asleep - because, really what else would he be doing at two-thirty in the morning?
Tony had spent much of the night at a bar in the outskirts of Baltimore catching up with old friends from his BPD days. They’d called a week ago to invite him to the retirement bash for his old captain. He’d generally been undecided about going until he’d mentioned it to Gibbs, who’d said, “Just go, DiNozzo.”
Tony had gone. It hadn’t been something he’d necessarily wanted to do but at the time he’d been pissed enough at Gibbs that a night away sounded like a damn fine idea.
He’d shown up at the bar alone, drank a few beers and made crude comments about the captain retiring with an exotic dancer while pretending to stare at the scantily clad waitresses. He’d had more than a few questions to answer about his single status and why he was avoiding the not so subtle advances of the women. Tony had just laughed because what else could he do? Tony wasn’t officially out and Gibbs sure as hell wasn’t officially out. And while the two of them weren’t necessarily locked in an airtight closet they were definitely sticking to the shadowed lands. Only someone who looked closely enough would see the obvious.
Besides, how smart would it be to tell a room full of cops that he was sleeping with his male boss?
He had left as soon as he could. He’d walked out of the bar, tired and still depressingly sober, and had gotten into his car to head home. And he really had intended to drive home, but somewhere between Baltimore and DC he’d started thinking about Gibbs’ bed and Gibbs’ arms and how he’d just once like to wake up next to the man instead of slinking off in the middle of the night.
So he’d turned left at the off ramp when he should’ve turned right, and when he could’ve flipped a u-turn to head back toward his apartment he’d kept driving straight until he’d found himself sitting in front of Gibbs’ house at 2:30 in the morning feeling like a stalker. He wanted to go inside - needed to go inside - but he knew that going inside was against the unwritten rules.
This was Gibbs after all, so of course their relationship had rules and boundaries and regulations. Some had been crossed and long since forgotten in their six months together, but some still remained, looming in the background of everything they did. He was with Gibbs more than half the nights, but while they went to bed together Tony always woke up alone. It didn’t matter where they were - Gibbs’ house or Tony’s apartment - one of them always left well before morning.
Actually this entire dilemma was stupid, since this was such an easy thing to do - just get out of the car, unlock the front door with his key and crawl into bed with a very warm, nice smelling Gibbs. Yet Tony still sat there, watching Gibbs’ house and wondering if he could every really have Gibbs in any meaningful ‘lets-have-our-jockey shorts-mingle-permanently’ kind of way. Of course, Tony already had an underwear drawer at Gibbs’ house, but he’d like to know that he wasn’t going to be evicted any time in the near future.
“Fuck it.” Tony opened the car door and figured he’d get some sleep and deal with Gibbs and all the baggage later.
The house was dark except for the nightlight glowing from the plug in the living room. Gibbs always complained about the light disturbing his sleep, but Tony could vividly recall all those nights watching Gibbs’ ass bent over as he plugged in the nightlight on the way to the bedroom.
Gibbs had bought the nightlight four months ago after Tony had broken his little toe on the edge of the coffee table. It had been pitch black in the house and Tony had been stumbling toward the kitchen when his toe met the table leg. His mumbled, “Fuck. Ouch,” had brought Gibbs out of the bedroom.
Gibbs had looked at the toe, already turning an impressive bluish black and bleeding a bit from the corner, and said to Tony, “For Christ’s sake, DiNozzo, suck it up. It’s just a toe.”
But the next night Tony spent at Gibbs’ house his kitchen expedition had been met with a small nightlight that softly lit the entire living room. No more broken toes. Neither Tony nor Gibbs had commented on the light. Tony hadn’t really given it much thought; it was after all, just a nightlight. But it was a nightlight still plugged in, still glowing, on a night when Gibbs wasn’t expecting Tony. Tony found himself wondering if he hadn’t somehow missed the message. Gibbs’ wasn’t cryptic but he could sometimes be obscure.
Tony walked down the hall to the bedroom, hoping that Gibbs had fallen asleep in bed and not down by the boat. He paused in the doorway and gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, until he could see that Gibbs was asleep on the bed with his arms spread out and one hand resting open palmed on Tony’s side of the bed.
Tony stepped inside the bedroom and paused, wondering when he had somehow claimed a side of Gibbs’ bed.
Tony walked closer to the bed - his side of the bed - and then paused again, this time wondering how wise it was to surprise a former Marine gunny sergeant and trained combatant by jumping into the sack with him. Knowing Gibbs, he probably slept with a 9mm under his pillow on the nights when Tony wasn’t staying, which meant that any second Gibbs could spring up and Tony could end up looking down the business end of a loaded weapon.
Not a great situation since Tony knew that even a half-asleep Gibbs was dangerous.
He quietly stripped down to his boxers and climbed carefully into bed. No matter how daring he felt, he wasn’t quite brave enough to wake up naked next to Gibbs, at least not when the waking-up-next-to-him part would be a surprise. That thought made Tony chuckle since modesty wasn’t something he or Gibbs had much experience with. It felt like most of their relationship consisted of working on losing the boxers and getting to the naked parts.
Tony’s breath caught when Gibbs reached out a hand and touched Tony’s arm.
“Tony?” Gibbs mumbled, and Tony’s nervousness somehow eased. Gibbs knew who had crawled into bed with him; he was still mostly asleep, eyes still closed but he had enough awareness to recognize Tony.
Tony reached down and rubbed Gibbs’ hand and said, “Yeah, it’s me. Go back to sleep.”
Tony rolled onto his side so he was facing Gibbs. His eyes were heavy but the smell of Gibbs - sawdust and Irish Spring soap - and the strong line of his back had Tony’s dick twitching half-heartedly. But much as he wanted Gibbs, his body wanted sleep more. He wanted to stretch out next to Gibbs in this bed with the ugly plaid comforter and the cheap 150 count sheets. He wanted to stop leaving in the middle of the night and start waking up next to Gibbs. He wanted to stop pretending that what they had was a long standing buddy fuck when they both knew it was more.
Then Tony thought about Gibbs’ house key that sat on his keychain, the drawer full of his boxers in Gibbs’ dresser, the nightlight in Gibbs’ living room. Tony realized that maybe Gibbs had already figured out what Tony wanted. Maybe it was the same thing that Gibbs wanted, too. In the morning Tony would wake up, get some sex and have some breakfast. And maybe afterwards he’d get a change in his life that wasn’t so much a change as a difference - something a little more, a little better, a little different.
Tony felt Gibbs shift in bed until his legs were shoved between Tony’s knees. Gibbs stuck his head into the crease of Tony’s arm and mumbled, “Go to sleep, DiNozzo,” in a voice that was more awake than Tony would have thought possible at three in the morning.
And that sounded like a good idea to Tony; the night was late and he was tired so he shoved Gibbs’ head slightly off the pillow and settled down. He heard Gibbs snort, and then felt the heavy weight of Gibbs arm slap across his stomach before his snorts turned into snores.
So Tony said, “Okay,” then wrapped his arms tightly around Gibbs and went to sleep.
The feel of fingers tugging on his chest hair woke Tony up in the morning. It was late - the sun was high in the sky and the alarm clock read eleven a.m. He opened his eyes to see Gibbs watching him with that almost expressionless look on his face.
“Hey.” Tony managed to say, clearing his throat and hoping his morning after beer breath wasn’t too nasty.
Gibbs didn’t say a word, just kept rubbing and pulling on Tony’s chest hair. Occasionally, he’d move his hand enough to softly flick one of Tony’s nipples. When Tony’s stomach muscles would clench in response, Gibbs would smile a little - like he knew a secret, like he’d figured out the answer.
Finally Gibbs asked, “How was last night?”
“You know, gorgeous women with big tits and little tee shirts all serving us beer. They all wanted me.”
“Yeah?” Gibbs asked, seconds before he kissed Tony. It was a full kiss that started on the lips and continued swiftly into the mouth and ended with a leisurely exploration of tongues and tonsils and teeth. The taste of Gibbs and desire and need exploded in Tony’s mouth. Tony groaned in response - a loud groan that would have embarrassed him if his body had been conscious of anything except the feel of Gibbs’ cock poking him in the thigh and the taste of Gibbs’ mouth on his. When Gibbs pulled away, Tony reached up and caught Gibbs on the back of the neck so that his mouth hovered over Tony’s in a blatant tease.
“Big tits in little t-shirts? Turns you on, huh?” And then Gibbs tugged hard on Tony’s nipples - painfully arousing - and captured Tony’s mouth again in a long, nasty kiss that immediately had Tony hard and wanting.
Gibbs’ mouth controlled the kiss and his hands tormented Tony’s chest and that was fine with Tony. He had two hands of his own that he could use to do some tormenting, so he wiggled out of his boxers then reached over and pulled Gibbs hard until he was lying across Tony’s chest.
Tony raised his legs up and pushed his feet against the bed and thrust up against Gibbs’ body. He felt their cocks slide together and when Gibbs moaned in that stupid pretending-not-to-moan way Tony opened his mouth wider and sucked in Gibbs’ tongue. He thrust his hands into Gibbs’ hair and angled Gibbs’ head to the side so that his neck was exposed.
Soft nips below Gibbs’ ear led to harder bites along his neck. Gibbs started thrusting down onto Tony’s body until Tony forgot he was supposed to be kissing and got lost in the sensation of Gibbs. Gibbs took Tony’s hands in his and intertwined their fingers pushing their hands down on the bed and raising his body up so he could see Tony’s face. He sank down and ground in hard circles until Tony felt his body tingle and the pressure start to build.
“Gibbs,” Tony wasn’t sure what he was planning to say but Gibbs’ name was always a safe bet. Demand or question he didn’t know but Gibbs seemed to understand. He let go of Tony’s hand and reached down and lifted Tony’s leg up, wrapping it around his waist.
Tony grabbed Gibbs’ head and brought their mouths together hard. There was no finesse in the kiss; just strength and need and a single-minded determination to touch and to come. Gibbs moved Tony’s legs and hips so that the angle was just right, so that their cocks rubbed together on every stroke. Tony could feel his balls tightening and when Gibbs reached down between them and pressed in hard under his balls he came with a groan strong enough to rock Gibbs.
Gasping, Gibbs lunged for the bedside table giving Tony an eyeful of his ass. He grabbed the lube and gave Tony a long, slow kiss that said more about Gibbs’ feelings than any words. With his fingers busy sliding in and out of Tony, Gibbs nipped and sucked and kissed his way across Tony’s chest and up his neck. And when Tony finally felt Gibbs push inside, he wrapped his legs around Gibbs’ waist and pulled him deeper.
Gibbs took a shuddering breath before he started to thrust - long, slow thrusts that quickly became fast and hard and demanding. Tony could feel Gibbs shaking, fighting to hold on just a little longer. Tony pushed himself up, forcing their bodies more firmly together and then he reached around and grabbed Gibbs’ ass in a bruising hold. Tony watched and waited and when he saw Gibbs bite his lower lip he pushed his finger hard into Gibbs’ hole - a little rough, a little nasty and exactly what Gibbs needed.
Gibbs came with a moan and one whispered word, “Tony.”
It was late afternoon before Gibbs and Tony got out of bed and went into the kitchen. Their stomachs were rumbling, their cocks were spent and Gibbs was bitching about the need for coffee. Sitting at the small table, Tony watched Gibbs stand at the counter and make tuna sandwiches in blue boxers and a faded USMC tee shirt.
Gibbs’ knees were knobby, his legs covered in coarse salt and pepper hair, the hair on his head stuck straight up at the crown and he had a good two days growth of beard. Tony sat there and tried to figure out when those things had become somehow better than soft curves, sweet smells and smooth legs. He couldn’t decide and figured that it didn’t really matter.
The lines on Gibbs’ face had relaxed; the hard curve of his lips had softened. He looked - almost - approachable. He looked younger than Tony had ever seen him look. Tony realized with a startling clarity that made his head ache and his body gasp for a breath that Gibbs looked … happy.
Tony had made Gibbs look happy. And not a just-got-laid and had-a-killer-orgasm kind of happy. It was the kind of happy that had Tony looking across the kitchen and seeing the Jethro that was still in love with life and hadn’t yet learned the hard lessons of time. Tony felt a flash of pride at the thought that he had put that look on Gibbs’ face. Not some redhead with a convertible but Anthony DiNozzo.
Of course pride gave way to desire when Gibbs starting shaking his ass at the counter. The man had eyes in the back of his head - he knew Tony was looking, and he knew Tony had a strange, almost perverse, love of Gibbs’ ass.
Tony could admit this.
Tony loved Gibbs’ ass, and he loved the rest of Gibbs and he would generally like to be allowed to say he loved all those various Gibbs parts.
Taking a long drink of his too strong coffee, Tony told his hardening dick to behave and said to Gibbs, “I guess I’ll take off after we eat.”
Gibbs’ ass stopped shaking and Gibbs looked over his shoulder to ask, “In a rush to be somewhere, Tony?”
Tony recognized that look in Gibbs’ eye. It was such a small change - so small most people wouldn’t notice it - but Tony had worked with Gibbs for three years and knew this look well. It was the same one Gibbs got every time he finally put all the clues together and figured out the case; it was the one Gibbs got when he had the perp in the interrogation room and was moving in for the kill.
But Tony hadn’t just been working with Gibbs for three years, he’d been learning from the man as well.
“Not really.” Tony stood, and lifting his arms above his head, he stretched. A big stretch that hiked his shirt up past the waistband of his boxers and had him moaning in delight as sore ass muscles stretched and relaxed.
When Tony sat back down, he raised his eyebrows and stared at the front of Gibbs’ tented boxers and laughed softly at the glazed look in Gibbs’ eyes. He raised his coffee cup in a small salute and waved Gibbs over to the closest chair.
“Gibbs, you’re a pain in the ass. Ask me to stay.”
“No.”
“You know you want to.”
Gibbs’ mouth turned up on one side, a small, smirking half smile that could mean anything. But when Gibbs sat down and lifted his foot to give Tony a swift kick in the shin Tony knew what the smile meant. Knew what the choice Gibbs had just made meant.
“You know, DiNozzo, I need some help with the boat.”
“Some help today?”
Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, took a drink of his coffee and picked up the morning newspaper. “Till it’s done.”
“Gibbs, that boat will never be done.”
Gibbs did smile then, a big, wide, shit-eating grin that had Tony’s pulse racing and his body tingling in anticipation.
“I know.”
And for Tony that was close enough to perfect.